They Will Tell Our Tale
by TheJuliaBrownen
Summary: There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you. A story of Andreth and Aegnor.
1. Chapter 1

My name is Julia and I am very excited to start my first story. After the encouragement of my friend, **Thenotoriousnineteen, **I am beginning my first FanFiction ever! I am a HUGE Tolkien fan, and my favorite book is The Silmarillion. I am a French major and Medieval studies minor at Tufts. My focus is chivalry in the twelfth century; Arthurian tales and such.

I tried to encompass some of my learning into this story. I ask that you be honest in your reviews of it, reviews are for improvement and I want to improve! I'm so excited to begin this journey with all of you. Please go over and give love to **Thenotoriousnineteen**, she is my biggest inspiration.

-Julia

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"My lady, we will stop for the night in the covering. The horses need a rest."

Andreth's contemplation was broken by the sound of the cavalry officer's voice. Gorth, a man about her father's age, fixed her with an expectant look and the young woman nodded her head in response.

It did not matter to the young woman whether they continued. The traveling party would arrive at the citadel tomorrow whether they stopped or not. It had nearly been a full day since the group had departed from her uncle's house in the south. For fifteen years, Andreth had been raised with great affection alongside her cousins. Now, she was being called back to stand at her father's side in the north.

When she had been but a girl, Andreth had been sent away to live with Belemir, her uncle, and his wife, Adanel. The last time she had stepped foot in her father's citadel in the north had been the day she had departed. An old chapter in her life was reopening; Andreth was returning to her birthplace. Her father was the new 'Lord of Ladros'; a title given to him by the Elven Princes for his undying loyalty to their kingdom. A letter had been sent to her a fortnight ago by her brother Bregor detailing the nobilities now bestowed upon their name. It was a great honor for the House of Bëor, to be sure. To say the young woman was anxious was putting it lightly. Andreth would now reside with her father, a man whose face she could barely remember. At least she would be reunited with her brother and her sister in the north. She would not be entirely alone.

A forest of silver trees loomed alongside the ice-capped mountains that they traveled by. Early fall rains had settled in the central plains, extending their travels. Their path took them far south, amongst the great ranges. They would then cut north avoiding the autumn storms.

Andreth had never seen the mountains before, and in the orange light of sunset they looked breath taking.

'_These lands were carved many years ago by Melian as a sign of her love for Thingol._'

The young lady could not help her mind wanderings. She could recite the story of Melian and Thingol from memory; it was one of her favorites.

Melian had been one of the spirits who had created the earth in the beginning of time. Renowned for her loveliness, Melian fell in love with Thingol an Elven king. For years the two remained hidden amongst the trees, so lost in one another they were that they forgot about the rest of the world. Together, the two traveled far and wide. While passing through Ladros, Melian carved the southern mountain range in honor of her lover. Her aunt had told Andreth the story many times when she had been a child. Adanel would whisper these tales as Andreth fell asleep; every night a new story was woven by Adanel's soft voice. Andreth could not help but imagine her aunt's face at seeing the mountains. It made her miss the home she had just departed from even more.

At the edge of the forest the riding party reigned in their mounts. Onna, Andreth's handmaiden, helped the young lady down from her horse. Brushing off dirt that had caught on Andreth's overcoat, the older woman wrapped a scarf lined in fur around the lady's neck.

"It'll get colder in the trees, my lady. I am sure of it. No use you showing up sick, don't want your father to think we haven't been taking care of you!" Onna smiled, her eyes wrinkling.

The woman patted Andreth's face before tending to a bundle on the horses's back. Andreth could not help but grin, Onna reminded her of Adanel. The handmaiden had departed with her voluntarily after serving her aunt for nearly twenty years. Onna had raised Adanel; Andreth had felt ashamed for tearing the two apart. The handmaiden had assured her that she left on her volition; for that, the young woman was overwhelmingly grateful.

It had been difficult leaving everything she had known for so long behind. Andreth had been resolved not to cry when time came to depart from her uncle's house. With great strength, she had kissed every one of her cousin's faces without so much as shedding a tear. Her composure remained steadfast when she had hugged her uncle's neck and felt his thick beard tickle her face (a thing she did not normally enjoy, but she had enjoyed it then). However, when it had come to saying goodbye to the woman who had been like a mother to her, Andreth had broken down into sobs. The two women had clung to one another in the courtyard until Adanel had torn herself away. Andreth had been lifted into the saddle, eyes full of tears, not looking back as she left the house of Belemir.

It would be difficult adjusting to this new life she was to lead. But, Adanel had raised her well. She was a proper young woman, a sharp young woman. Andreth would not disappoint.

Patting the neck of her mount, Andreth assisted her handmaiden with her travel bag. The trunk carrying the rest of her belongings remained tied to the horse cart, along with various supplies being delivered to her father's residence. Taking Onna's hand, Andreth led the older woman to Gorth's side.

In a voice that was even, if not a bit commanding, Andreth informed the officer, "Onna will need someone to assist her. The forest floor is no doubt teeming with exposed roots and such. I don't want her to come to any harm."

Her handmaiden objected, but Gorth nodded and a young foot soldier took Onna's arm. Andreth smiled in appreciation, but politely refused when another man offered his arm to her, "Thank-you, but I prefer to go on my own."

Andreth took her place alongside Onna and the two women, and the rest of their escorts, fell in line behind did not walk far into the trees, just far enough to be well hidden. It was peacetime, there had not been war in Ladros for hundreds of years. Caution, though, was taken at all times. The race of Men did not have the privilege of short memories. Many of the soldier's ancestors had experienced all that war had to offer during the reign of the Dark King. That was many years ago, yet his presence still ebbed on the minds of those living.

Andreth gazed above her at the forest canopy. Light peered through the foliage, though it was significantly darker amongst the wood than it was outside. It was quiet, but not frighteningly so. Noise soon filled the air as men set about making camp. There were logs that had been shaven down to serve as benches already littered about the clearing. The young woman figured that this spot was frequented by travelers. Andreth felt useless standing around. Onna was rolling out their sleeping pads as tents were into the dirt. She hugged her fur closer to her neck; Onna had been right, it was colder in the trees. This was her first time traveling in a while, Andreth did not know the proper protocol expected of a lady when traveling. Her aunt had not instructed her on all matters, only those Adanel had believed important. That limited Andreth's knowledge to fables, languages, and basic medicine. It was not a conventional education for a girl, Andreth was quite aware, but it was what she had received. She decided her best service was to remain out of the way.

Fires were soon started as men gathered wood. Onna gestured for Andreth to join her by the central fire. The young lady sat on a trunk bench next to the older woman who smoothed the younger woman's skirts. Unlike Adanel, Onna was a tad more old-fashioned. She believed a woman was to always be properly dressed. There were many battles fought between Adanel and Onna when Andreth had been growing up. Onna had won most of them, but the two women compromised all the other times.

Gorth and several of his officers approached them. Addressing Andreth, they talked of food and supplies. The lady listened intently, knowing she was supposed to take careful heed of their words.

"My lady, some of the men are hunting. They spotted a buck not ten yards shy of our camp. If they are not successful, there is meat brought from your uncle's house. We will have that with some potatoes and bread. I apologize for the lack of extravagance; we travel simply and aren't used to having a lady's company."

Gorth bowed his head to her. He was an honest man, much like her uncle in manners. Andreth was grateful and felt no inconvenience. Her uncle's house had been comfortable but modest; she was not used to any sort of luxury.

"Sir, I give my thanks for everything. My handmaiden and I are safe, that is all we ask for."

The officer responded, "Aye, you're safe my lady. Not much in these woods except for deer and the occasional passerby. Though, there should not be anyone travelling now. Normally, this path is only used when the Tarn's waters overrun in the spring…"

At the mention of the Tarn, Andreth's eyes lit up. Everything else Gorth said fell upon deaf ears.

"Is the Tarn you speak of the Tarn Aeluin?"

Surprised, Gorth stopped mid-speech. He gave Andreth a queer look, "Aye, my lady. The Tarn Aeluin is the only lake in the area. You know it?"

Gorth and the men watched her with interest. Andreth felt herself pink from the attention. She glanced at Onna who was holding her hands up to the fire, disinterested in the conversation. Collecting herself, Andreth explained, "My aunt Adanel told me tales of the Tarn Aeluin. The lake is notorious for its crystal waters. At night it is said the heavens are captured in its surface. The goddess Melian bathed in the waters of the Tarn on occasion of her marriage to the Eleven king, Thingol."

At the conclusion of her speech, the men began to chuckle. Andreth's embarrassment increased. They probably thought her a silly girl with her tales of magic and kings. Never before had she been laughed at for telling tales; on the contrary, everyone normally encouraged her. In her defense Onna spoke, quieting the men's laughter, "You forget yourselves, sirs. It is not right to laugh at a woman's discomfort. The lady speaks only what she has been taught."

The men settled down. Gorth bowed before expressing his apologies.

"Pardons my lady, we did not mean any disrespect."

Andreth's pride had been bruised but there was no use holding a grudge. With civility, she accepted the man's apology.

"It is fine, sir. I forget that not everyone appreciates a story. Now tell me how far the Tarn is from here. Is it quite a distance?"

Gorth appeared to contemplate her question before shaking his head, "The Tarn's on the other side of the trees, my lady. Not a long walk from here."

To see the Tarn Aeluin at night would be a dream. If it was not far, there would be no objection to her going to see it. Andreth smiled, "Then I ask, sir, for an escort tonight to the waters. I wish to see them when the moon has risen."

Her statement left little room for argument. Andreth, in her mind, began to compose the letter she would send Adanel when she reached her father's house. In every detail, she would recount her visit to the Tarn to her aunt. If only the lady where there to go with her.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I'm afraid going to the Tarn would be too unsafe. I am trusted to deliver you to your father unharmed."

Gorth was not endearing in his sentiments, if anything he seemed annoyed. Andreth's anger flared. He had just said himself that the forest was safe, that they traveled without harm. To go to the Tarn not a far distance away was as safe as staying the night amongst the trees.

Andreth was about to object before Onna gripped her arm tightly. The lady turned to her handmaiden, demanding an answer. The older woman gave her a steely look. As a child, she had been mischievous; sneaking into the library after pretending to fall asleep to look over the books. Both Adanel and Onna had chastised her on many occasions; the look she was receiving from Onna was the same look from childhood. Andreth would not test Onna's patience. Plastering a smile on her face, Andreth nodded in understanding to Gorth before directing her gaze away to the fire. The men dispersed to deal with the arrival of several foot soldiers carrying between them the body of a dead stag. The hunters had been successful in their tracking after all.

Andreth fumed, upset with Onna at objecting. Onna remained at her side, stroking her hair.

"My lady, do not test the patience of these men. Their mission is to see you safely to your father's house, nothing more. They are not prepared to deal with the fancies of a young woman as wise as you are."

The older woman's compliment soothed Andreth's spirit. Honestly, the young woman could not stay angry at her companion. Onna was the only familiar thing Andreth had left.

She felt Onna lean nearer to her. Andreth thought that the old woman would perhaps recount a story to make her feel better. Instead she listened as Onna whispered, "You and I shall go to the Tarn once the men have fallen asleep. Who do you think is the one that told Adanel the tales of Melian and Thingol?"

Andreth felt a grin spread across her face. For the first time since leaving her uncle's house, she felt happiness creep into heart once more.


	2. Chapter 2

So here is a quick succession of chapter 2. I could not help myself, I cannot get the story of Andreth and Aegnor onto pages fast enough! As I said before, please read and review. I have already enjoyed listening to some of your comments. I cannot live without critique!

-Julia

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Onna lightly shook Andreth awake after the guard outside their tent had fallen asleep.

Supper had been enjoyed in relative ease. Andreth and her handmaiden had been treated to roasted venison alongside broiled potatoes and black bread. Night brought chilliness to the air that foretold of the winter to come. The food had warmed the travelers' spirits.

After the meal had been cleared away, the women had listened to the men's talk of battles and victories. The soldiers spoke of their great-grandfathers fighting the Dark King, of lands being burned to ash only to be reconquered by the Elven princes. More than once, the House of Bëor was praised and Andreth had felt her pride swell in some minor way at the mention of her forefather's great deeds. She had been born of noble blood, her father's new title was a long due acknowledgement of her family's benevolence.

The young woman was comfortable around men. Adanel had birthed five sons; all of them had turned out to be warriors like their forefathers. The House of Bëor produced warriors; even Andreth's father was notorious for his skills with a blade. Andreth had grown up romping in the playroom with her cousins. The older ones would teach her minor sword play and take her for rides around the estate. For the younger ones, Andreth would play the fair maiden in their games. The little boys would rescue her from dragons and trolls. There had been one occasion when her uncle had dressed in the skin of a bear and played along with them; to everyone's great amusement.

Onna had hustled her to bed soon after the last of the stories had been told. Their plan was still in motion; Onna would keep watch while Andreth slumbered. Andreth had wished to stay awake with the older woman; but, the more normal everything appeared, the less likely they would raise suspicion. So, the two went through their nightly routine. Onna brushed Andreth's hair and brought her water to clean her face and neck. After changing into a thick wool nightgown, Andreth had quickly fallen asleep on top a pallet of goose feathers.

The older woman had remained vigilant throughout the night. One by one, each man had eventually succumbed to their fatigue. Gorth and the older officers were in tents opposite them. Several young boys slumbered against trees. The squire charged with guarding their tent dozed upright.

Andreth's belly was a flutter with excitement as the two women slipped out of the tent, past their escorts into the trees. A giggle ran through her, she had never before been this excited.

From the camp, Onna had smuggled a lantern. Clumsily, Andreth lit the oil. Her handmaiden clung to Andreth's hand as the younger woman led their way with the lantern light. The dim glow of the flame was almost unnecessary; the moon's light broke through the tree canopy. Its white face was full and shining brightly.

Andreth whispered to her companion after a few minutes of walking in silence, "How much further do you think it is?"

The lady felt Onna squeeze her hand. The handmaiden side stepped a tree root that jutted from the ground.

"Not much farther, my lady. Look, the trees are getting younger. We must be close to the edge."

The young woman's heart was racing; she had never done anything so daring. Her aunt and uncle easily gave into the whims of their children.

_No sneaking about would be needed if Gorth had just given them leave to go in the first place._

As the older woman had predicted, the edge of the forest was upon them. The ground was getting damp. Andreth could feel the moisture through her thin-soled slippers; a sign that water was near them. Several more steps and both women came out of the forest, onto the lakeshore. A gasp escaped both of their throats.

The surface of the Tarn Aeluin was much like a mirror. The cosmos of the night sky were reflected in the water that shone a midnight blue. Surrounding the lake was green grass as soft as a sheep's skin.

_The legends were true. Melian herself had graced these waters!_

Andreth could not imagine a place more suitable. It was as if they had stumbled into one of Adanel's stories. If only Adanel were here to see such wonderment. Andreth imagined herself in a dream.

Onna was murmuring a prayer next to her. The young woman turned to her companion. In the light of the lantern, Andreth could see tears in the old woman's eyes. Tears were forming in her own eyes, and with the back of her gown sleeve Andreth wiped them away. The lantern light was blown out and discarded on the ground. Onna remained on the banks of the river while the younger woman walked forward to the water.

Andreth slipped out of her shoes and dared to dip a toe into the lake. The water was surprisingly warm. Encouraged, Andreth waded into the water up to her ankles. She turned to Onna who had sat down on the grass, looking about with a smile on her wrinkled face.

The Tarn was silent. Andreth looked across the vast lake. Its waters were partly bordered by trees and the rest walled off by mountain rock. A waterfall gently trickled at the opposite end of the lake, where the melting ice from the mountain fed the lake body. Wading around the shore edge, Andreth made her way to the waterfall. There was not an objection from her companion as she traveled father and farther away.

She came to rest on the opposite bank of the lake. She stood collecting herself. Her presence in the water had not disturbed the reflection of the night sky. Instead, Andreth saw her reflection amongst the heavenly bodies. Her round eyes were gazing back at her in bewilderment. Andreth knelt down, skimming the water with her fingertips. Her loose hair pooled over her shoulder and the ends of her hair became wet.

White mountain stone jutted out several feet over the Tarn's waters. Andreth was dwarfed by the stone.

The water trickled from the white rock, like a steady rain from the stone's end. The young woman ventured deeper, into the water towards the fall. The hem of her dress was soaked nearly to her knee. Andreth lifted her hand to catch the waters. A shiver went through the young woman. The water from the mountains was frigid in comparison to the rest of the lake. Perhaps, the young woman would catch cold. She didn't mind at all; she would suffer any illness to remain in this moment forever. Happily, the girl watched the fall of the water before returning to gaze at the surface below her.

In the water was not only Andreth's own reflection, but the reflection of a man with hair glowing gold.

The young woman turned around, fear coursing through her veins. Gorth had said they were alone in the forest.

_That was not true! _

Andreth came face to face with a tall man with broad shoulders. His skin was pale as new snow; his golden hair caught the moon's light, so that it looked aflame with white fire. His clothes were odd and on his back was a bow and arrow. His face was pleasingly handsome.

The man reached for her, "Melian? I saw your reflection in the waters. They talked of your departure in the halls of my father. I thought it could not be true, you are here!"

His voice was deep, but with an air of youthfulness. Andreth was enchanted by the man, but her basic instincts took hold. She stepped back into the water away from his grasp. He thought her to be the spirit Melian. Was he mad? He talked of Melian as if she were a close friend and not the legendary woman from the stories.

The man took another step closer, Andreth took another step back. They were both now up to their thighs in the Tarn's waters. Her dress clung inappropriately to her legs, the hem drifting up exposing her calves. Never before had she been one for propriety; but, in the presence of a stranger, Andreth became self-aware. She wondered if Onna was watching them from afar. Chancing a glance at her companion, she realized the old woman was farther away than she had thought. Could Onna even see them? Andreth turned back to the man; he seemed confused at her silence.

With great courage, Andreth gathered herself. She spoke, her voice a tad bashful, "Sir, I am not the woman that you speak of. I am Andreth, of House Bëor."

Perhaps he would leave her now that she had made clear that she was not Melian. No doubt he would be disappointed; this man was expecting a deity and had instead happened upon a normal girl.

Unexpectedly, the man took another step forward. Andreth schooled herself not to take a step back. His attractiveness and the look of fascination in his eyes made her flush, she thanked that it was not bright enough for him to see her reddened cheeks. Would this man harm her? Andreth did not think so. Despite the fact that she knew nothing about him, she felt compelled to trust this man.

His face was inches from her own; his nose long, his jaw square and smooth as a babe's. All the men in her family had grown beards as soon as they were able. This man's eyes were pale; they held within them a glimmer of power. Was this man even a man? The thought suddenly overtook her. Maybe this was not a man, but some spirit. Andreth racked her mind for an answer; was this Thingol looking for his lost lover? Was that why he had mistaken her for Melian?

"Forgive me, fair creature. Your resemblance to the Queen Melian is astounding. You say you are of the _Edain_, but I fear that you are lying. You must be of the heavens."

Andreth's ears were ringing. Had she heard the words true? _Edain,_ the word was not foreign to her ears. She had heard it before, but her mind had all but slowed to a stop. There were no words to say. The man, this being, was now inches from her. He touched her face. Andreth held her breath as his fingers graced her skin. They were warm, soft. This complete stranger was caressing her cheek and Andreth was allowing him. His fingers moved to grasp her hair and mush it back over her shoulder, exposing the column of her neck. A shiver ran up her spine, Andreth shuddered. He looked at her face again, watched her with captivation.

Andreth was under a spell, drunk from the magic of the Tarn. Whoever this being was, Andreth was hypnotized by his presence.

The young woman leaned into his touch. She gazed up at him, her head nearly reaching the height of his shoulders. He leaned over her, their face mere inches apart. Andreth had never kissed a man; she had seen husband and wives kiss before, watched her older cousin kiss his intended wife. She had always marveled at the intimacy of the act.

This man was going to kiss her. Andreth saw him lean forward. The lady felt his lips against hers. She closed her eyes as a flutter ran through her. Her heart swelled. His lips were firm, Andreth melted into the touch. It lasted no longer than a few seconds, but within those moments the world melted away.

"Andreth! Andreth, come back we must depart!"

The two broke apart. Onna was calling for her, no doubt worried. Andreth did not depart immediately. She stood gazing at the man, the being she had just kissed. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest, her pulse was racing. To think coming to the Tarn was to be her adventure, she could not have imagined anything of this magnitude happening!

A hand graced her face again; Andreth turned her cheek into the palm. His pale eyes were aflame, a smile gracing the lips she had just kissed. She needed to know his name. She decided in that moment that knowing his name would admonish her of any depravity.

"Please, I must know who you are. My handmaiden calls, I cannot stay longer."

Her voice remained shy and flustered.

"Fair lady, I am Aegnor."

That was all he offered. Andreth nodded. _Aegnor_.

It was a fine name to be sure. Andreth had no knowledge of any Aegnor. There were no fables of a spirit named Aegnor who kissed young ladies under the stars. She would write one though, pen an entire volume of stories on this singular moment.

Forcing her body past him, Andreth walked out of the lake. She turned to look at the spirit again. He was tracking her movements, but remained in the water. Could she stay with him?

"Andreth!"

With one last look the young woman ran back to her handmaiden.


	3. Chapter 3

So this chapter took a bit longer than expected, but I was playing around with the plot line. My apologies, next chapter should be up soon. I love all of my reviewers, thank-you so much for taking the time to appreciate my story.

Expect an exciting next chapter. Once again, read and review!

Also much appreciation for my Beta reader **Notoriousnineteen**.

-Julia

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Andreth found herself beside a fireplace in a grand bedroom. Onna scampered about behind her, preparing her gown for dinner. The old woman muttered about "wrinkles" and "plainness". Andreth was too fatigued to be of any assistance, she was unsure if she could even remain awake for a meal.

The day's events blurred in her mind. They had occurred so fast.

It had taken the traveling party half a day to arrive at Castle Bëor after leaving the mountains. They had traveled quickly, not stopping for anything. Gorth and the men had been impatient to arrive before rain approached. Storm clouds had trailed them like a banner of black in the sky. Andreth had not slept at all after visiting the Tarn Aeluin. While Onna slumbered beside her, Andreth had remained awake, staring up at the tent's ceiling; her mind racing after the kiss with Aegnor. Her thoughts were consumed by the man she knew nothing about. There was no Aegnor in the stories Adanel had told her. Perhaps this was a spirit that had preceded Melian; maybe he was even a god? The thought made Andreth's heart flutter.

The lady had not told her handmaiden of the encounter. She didn't dare to even mention the name Aegnor for fear of arousing the woman's suspicions. This was a secret she would keep hidden, her own private treasure. Maybe in the future, a long time from now, she would recount the story to her dozens of grandchildren Andreth would recount the tale to them; tell them about the time their grandmother kissed a god amongst the mountains of the south.

A part of her heart ached at the idea of never seeing Aegnor again. It was foolish to be so enraptured by the mysterious being; Andreth knew it wasn't at all sensible. For the entirety of the ride she had sat quiet upon her horse, ignoring the landscape that passed her by; dreaming of golden hair and kind eyes that held the moon's reflection.

When they had arrived to Castle Bëor, Andreth had been greeted by her brother Bregor in the courtyard of the citadel. Bregor had grown since the last time Andreth had seen him. No longer was he her older brother with pink cheeks and a lopsided smile. In his thirtieth year, Bregor was a man with a beard covering the dimples that Andreth had often teased him for. His hair was light brown, his eyes blue, his face tanned from the sun; the image of their father. He was handsome, and Andreth had been overcome with emotion at the sight of her brother. The two siblings had embraced, tears in their eyes. Their reconciliation smiled upon by all those present in the courtyard.

Bregor had brought her to the rooms she currently sat in. He had talked nonstop while they had meandered through the castle hallways, his manner jovial, telling her about all the details of what had transpired in her long absence. Most of what her brother had informed her of had passed over her head. Too many names and dates for her to possibly remember.

Their father had not been present to receive her; his attendance had been requested by the Elven princes. Andreth had never met an Elf before, but she had heard them talked about. Her uncle had spoke of them as mythical beings unlike men. Unlike her father, her uncle was too minor a chieftain to warrant Elven attention. The Elven princes owned the land Andreth's people lived on; they were the ones to give her father his lordship. The House of Bëor had served the Elven King since the time of Bëor the Old.

Their father would return for dinner. Until then, Andreth was expected to rest and recuperate from her journey.

Her rooms were spacious, grander than any bedroom at her uncle's house. Andreth had lived with her cousins in one giant room, many beds next to one another in a single long row. It had been cramped; but, ideal for whispering late into the night with her cousins. She would like this bedroom as well though, especially the bookcases that lined the south wall. The bed was grand and a canopy of emerald velvet surrounded it. The fireplace she currently sat in front of was not large but warmed the entire room. There was also a sitting place next to the bookshelves, along with four large windows to let in plenty of sunlight.

The candles had been lit as the sun faded into the landscape. Andreth nursed a cup of warm wine in her hands, taking cautious sips of it. Bregor had run off to see to speak to Gorth, her brother full of energy. She was happy to be amongst her siblings once more.

Beril had not been brought to her yet. Andreth was anticipating seeing her sister once more. The last time Andreth had seen her had been when Beril was a girl of ten, she had been brought to their uncle's home for a visit. After that, the two sisters had corresponded only through letters. Andreth had watched her sister grow up through words.

"My lady, let me help you wash up. I instructed the maid to bring some water to clean your face."

The lady set her cup down on the chair before regrettably removing herself from the fireside. Her bones ached from the saddle, she felt dirty and a bath would do her good. Onna motioned for Andreth to sit on a stool next to the bed. A plump woman with round cheeks entered the room carrying a basin of steaming water. Andreth unlaced her boots while Onna worked on her dress. Soon she stood only in a shift, handing the dirty things to the maid who left the room not before closing the door.

A warm rag soaked with water met Andreth's back. The young woman let out a sigh, "It is good to be home again. I know my uncle's house shall always be home for me, but I am determined to make this new place my home as well."

Andreth continued to ramble on while Onna washed her arms and legs.

"I miss Adanel and my cousins, I long to see their faces once more. I also wish to see my sister, see how much she has grown. Do you remember the last time I saw her, Onna? Beril was short and hair wildly curly, pretty as a flower with the bearing of a queen. I wonder if she has gotten any taller, I am not tall but our brother no doubt stands over our father. He has the coloring of our father. Bregor has for sure grown very handsome…"

Her voice trailed off. Onna smiled, taking the cloth to Andreth's neck.

"No doubt, my lady is excited to see her siblings once more. If you are not too tired or consumed by your sister's attentions, after dinner you can compose a letter to Adanel telling her of our journey to the Tarn. In detail explain to her the color of the water and the sky. It was truly a heavenly place."

Andreth's mind once again drifted to Aegnor; the way he had looked at her and grasped her face. That would _not_ be something she would put in the letters to Adanel.

The water in the basin had turned murky; Onna left the rag on the edge. Andreth no longer felt dirty, instead her skin was clean and dirt free. Onna brushed Andreth's hair back into a braid; a pretty comb of silver was placed right behind her left ear. Over on the bed, Onna had set out her dress for dinner. It was one of Andreth's finest. The over dress was navy velvet with a full underskirt of embroidered silver. A belt of silver chain dangled from the waist. The dress was a gift from Adanel, given to Andreth for her birthday.

Once the gown was on, Andreth smoothed the skirts. She felt elegant and Onna agreed, adjusting the fabric here and there. Slipping into her heeled shoes, Andreth took a deep breath before walking to the door.

The hallways of the castle were wide and tall, made of sand colored stone. Candles lined the walls. Onna followed behind her as Andreth made her through the castle. Bregor had showed her the dining hall they would be eating in. There were many different doors, but the help of a passing guard saw Andreth and Onna to the dining chamber.

A long table stood central in a room that had more the appearance of a study. Books lined the walls and there was a large desk over in the opposite corner piled high with papers and various writing utensils. A candelabra of solid iron loomed above a table filled with bread, butter, wine, and fruits. Several men stood at either side of the table, one of them ushered Andreth over to a chair. Onna bid her farewell before leaving the room, Andreth had invited her to stay for dinner but the old woman wished to take a meal in her room and relax.

The lady was sat at on the left side of the head chair; she remained in the room alone except for the men who stood impassively waiting for an order. Perhaps she was too early; she did not know the schedule of when dinner was in the castle. Bregor had not told her when to arrive only that the meal would take place after the sun had gone down. The night sky was visible through the windows, a waning moon nearly covered by clouds. Andreth stared at her empty plate.

For a moment she sat there in the silence, watching the fire dance in the fireplace; she wondered if every room in the castle was blessed with one. The extravagance of her surroundings was rather daunting; she had not grown up with such commodities and believed she preferred a more humble way of living.

Noise at the door brought Andreth's attention away from the fire. A young woman entered the room flustered, followed by several women who were older than she. The young woman was chastising the older women, her voice soft and even, "I do not know why we are eating in Father's study when the hall is perfectly empty. Why live in a grand castle if we use none of the rooms but the study to dine in…"

The young woman's voice trailed away as Andreth stood to make her presence known. Standing face to face, the women were able to see each other more clearly. Andreth felt her heart leap. She was staring into the face of her younger sister Beril.

It took Beril a moment longer to recognize Andreth before the sister ran to take her older sibling into her arms.

"Andreth, you are here! Bregor said you arrived but he would not let me see you, because you were weary from your journey. It has been an age!"

The excitement in her sister's voice did away with any anxiety Andreth may have had. She clung to her sister's dress, her face nearly buried in her sister's curly hair. They broke away, Andreth getting a closer view of Beril's appearance. Not much had changed since the last time Andreth had seen her; she was still petite, her light brown hair still curly, and her prettiness only more enhanced. A dress of mauve clung to her fame while several combs of gold rested in her curls creating a half crown atop her head.

Andreth hugged her sister once more before speaking, "You have only grown prettier since the last time I have seen you. In your last letter you had told me that you were ill with fever, are you better now? I have missed you so much."

Beril nodded, "Yes, I have been better for weeks and I have been counting down the hours until your arrival. Come let us sit before Father and Bregor ruin our fun."

With a wave of the hand, Beril dismissed her ladies who left the room. Andreth noted her sister still retained an air of regality, bearing herself like a queen. The men in attendance poured them wine as Beril took a seat opposite Andreth. There were eight more empty seats, and Andreth wondered if anymore were to be joining them.

Beril chattered endlessly about the happenings of the castle while Andreth listened rapt with attention. Her sister spoke openly telling her about their father's new lordship.

"The Princes proposed the idea when Father and his men were able to chase away a band of raiders from the west. You see, Father was riding in the front when arrows began to fly. One would have hit Prince-"

Beril's conversation was interrupted by Bregor entering the room. Andreth stood while Beril remained seated as their brother came to them. His face appeared pinched despite the smile on his face, as if there was a heavy matter he was trying to conceal. He kissed Andreth on the cheek before making his way to Beril to do the same. He took the chair opposite Andreth and leaving the head of the table vacant. A wine glass was poured for him as he took his seat, letting out a sigh before talking in a stern manner, "Father begs your apologies; he sent a messenger saying he will not return until late. Bad weather had kept them from traveling any further."

Andreth looked outside; rain had begun to fall in sheets. Bregor continued, "We are to stay up for his arrival, but Andreth you are excused if you are tired. The Elven Princes will be accompanying him. Beril have you told our sister of the entertainments planned for our Father's coronation?"

Beril objected, slapping their brother's hand.

"I was just about to tell her before you ruined the secret! Andreth we are to have a feast in honor of Father's celebration. There shall be music and dancing, plus this will be the perfect way to welcome you home! Is it not exciting?"

Andreth nodded. She smiled, sipping her wine. Her sister continued to talk of the celebrations while their brother motioned for the meal to begin. Having not eaten since morning, Andreth was quite famished and helped herself to the rabbit and bread. The three siblings fell into amusing conversation; Andreth recounted stories from their Uncle's house and Bregor boasted of his military prowess.

_It was as if I never left._

Though she longed for Adanel and her cousins in the south, Andreth knew she would be happy here. If her father would only be here, then it would be perfect. There was still a heavy dread about seeing her father once more.

The plates were cleared at the end of the meal. Tea was brought out and the fruit was cut up. Andreth enjoyed an orange Bregor had peeled for her, dipping the slice into her glass. They sat in comfort, enjoying one another's presence. Hours had passed and even though Andreth's body begged for sleep, the young woman could not bear to tear herself away from her siblings. Besides, she thought it better to see her father sooner than later. She was also tempted by the Elven Princes; it would be her first time seeing an Elf in the flesh.

The rain had subsided, a gentle mist looming throughout the air. A guard came into the room, whispering into Bregor's ear. He bowed to the women before Bregor set his glass of wine down.

"Father is here, we shall go to him in the grand hall. Come Beril, Andreth."

Her brother stretched his limbs before pulling out Beril's chair. Beril, who had grown quieter throughout the meal, seemed reanimated at the announcement. Andreth stood, her legs aching, and brushed her lap free of crumbs. Her young sister linked her arm around Andreth's, pulling the lady along while their brother led the way.

In a room much grander than any Andreth had seen, the three siblings stood waiting for their father. Andreth felt her heart race, her grip tightening around Beril's hand. Her younger sister looked at her, giving her a smile of encouragement. Bregor patted Andreth's shoulder as the large doors were thrown open.

A group of men walked in, all in the hall bowing. Andreth followed her sister into a curtsey, her eyes still raised to see her father. She finally spotted him; he was with two men in armor, all of them soaked through by the rain. A smile was on his face and Andreth felt herself calm down. She stood tall next to Beril, gathering her strength. Bregor stepped forward to greet their father, Andreth had been true in saying that Bregor stood taller than him. Their father's attractiveness had been replaced by an air of stateliness; he was a man in his early fifties with a long beard and a bald head except for a ring of hair around his temples. He was broad, like their uncle, and a sword swung from his hip.

Their eyes met and Andreth smiled. Her father came over to her; Andreth held his gaze as he looked her over before giving a half smile.

"You are the image of your mother, so rest her soul. I see that you have been well taken care of at my kin's house."

Andreth nodded, "I was treated wonderfully by Belemir and the Lady Adanel, though I have longed to be returned to your presence, Father."

The statement was elegantly said, and her father seemed pleased by it. He nodded, placing a kiss on Andreth's cheek.

"We are happy to have you returned, especially now that your Father is a Lord. Come let me introduce you to our company."

Their father turned sweeping his hand out, gesturing to the men who had piled into the hall. Andreth realized that some of the men carried themselves differently; they wore odd armor and their hair was long to their waist. Upon closer inspection, Andreth noticed that their skin was smooth and there was a glow about them, as if they were beacons of their own light. They were magnificent to look upon, like living statues. Amongst the crowd, stepped forward three hooded figures wearing silver cloaks of velvet.

"My children, may I present to you the Princes of Noldor."

The Elves removed their hoods, revealing their faces. Andreth was taken aback, grasping her sister's arm. Amongst the Elven Princes was Aegnor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: So, for those of you that are not entirely familiar with the Noldor (second clan of Elves that came to Middle Earth), I am going to go ahead and give you some brief biographies for the sons of Finarfin (King of the Noldor).

Finrod (Finrod Felagund)- He is the eldest son, Aegnor's eldest brother. Finrod was the first Noldor Elf to interact with Men. He was famous for teaching them Sindarin and helping them survive. Bëor the Old (Andreth's forefather) and Finrod were good friends; therefore, Finrod looked after Bëor's ancestors.

Angrod- He is the middle son, Aegnor's older brother but younger than Finrod. Not much was written on Angrod, only that he had an Elven wife and son who remained in Valinor. They never followed him into Middle Earth.

Aegnor- Our Romeo is the youngest son of Finarfin. He was infamously terrible in battle, a topic that I will probably expand on in the coming chapters. He followed his older brother Angrod into Middle Earth long after Finrod had already left.

The brothers had a younger sister, who you all know: Galadriel.

With each chapter I may give some quick background, so that way no one gets too terribly confused. The history of the Noldor is a forgotten subject in a lot of Tolkien's writings, but I find it quite fascinating.

I am writing rather quickly now, I have a lot of inspiration from my beta **Notoriousnineteen**. I also reread the Canterbury Tales which are just awe inspiring in themselves. Much love to all my reviewers, you are honestly the best.

-Julia

P.S.: _muindor_ means 'brother' in Sindarin

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Raindrops fell upon the young prince's skin, but the Elf felt no cold. The prince had never felt cold or heat. Even when he had grasped a hot iron there had been no pain, only a sensation at his fingertips. Not even a scar was left from where the iron had burned his flesh.

It irked the prince that these men who were so fierce in battle could be undone by the weather.

Aegnor had seen many centuries pass, watched men be born and die with their fists clenched around swords. So strong were these beings, but they were also easily susceptible to things like pain and illness. A cough could kill a man where an arrow may fail. Men were odd to be sure.

The pace of the convoy was slow. Aegnor and his brother, Angrod, rode ahead unable to keep their horses from bursting forth. The stallions they rode craved speed, they were not held back by the weather. Their older brother, Finrod, remained with the men. Finrod was apt to indulge these humans in their follies; their older brother had spent most of his life on this earth surrounded by men. The crown prince enjoyed their company.

Finrod had left their father's side to explore the eastern mountains. That is where he had first encountered the men of House Bëor. It had been Finrod who had established relations between Elf and Men in Ladros, who had fought alongside Bëor the Old in the wars against the Dark King. Finrod enjoyed the company of the lower sons of Eru.

The two brothers raced up the hillside, Aegnor spurring his stallion on past Angrod.

"You hurry to get to Ladros, _muindor_. Are you so excited to be amongst the company of Boromir's daughters?"

Angrod teased as he came to a halt by Aegnor. The youngest prince remained silent to his brother's taunts.

"They say the women are stout and hairy like Boromir himself. We shall have to find you a wife amongst them, Aegnor!"

Unlike Finrod, Angrod and Aegnor were still not accustomed with the oddities of men. They had remained at their father's side until war had called them into action. Even then, the two younger princes had remained in the comfort of their own people. Finrod was pushing them to become more involved in the affairs of their land, which meant dealing with the people who lived on it. That included men.

Boromir was a brave warrior, but Aegnor knew nothing of his daughters. As if any woman could enter Aegnor's thoughts when his mind was so thoroughly fixated on one singular being.

_Andreth._

It was a Sindarin word; Andreth meant patience, serenity. An appropriate name for the creature Aegnor had stumbled upon in the waters of the Tarn Aleuin.

Never before had he been so transfixed by a woman.

It had not been his intentions to go to the Tarn that night. No, he had actually meant to go farther north but had meandered his way to the lake by accident. That is when he had seen her. She had been knee deep in the waters, over on the edge where the water fell from the mountain tops. Her hair had reflected the cosmos, every star seemingly caught amongst the strands of black. For a moment, Aegnor had thought himself in the presence of the spirit Melian. As a child he had met Melian at the court of his father, been struck by the legendary beauty that had carved the mountains for Thingol. That had been many centuries ago. Melian had departed from Middle Earth, but he swore the woman in the Tarn had been her.

Aegnor had approached her, unable to remain silent. She had been fearful of him at first, until he had made his intentions known. After that, the woman had seemed as enchanted with him as he was with her. His manner at the Tarn had been quite improper, he knew. The prince had caressed the young woman, kissed her. They had acted like reconciled lovers, not like strangers meeting for the first time. Aegnor would give anything to see the young woman again, hear her voice, and look into her eyes. Their destinies were entwined, he knew it.

The problem was Aegnor did not know the whereabouts of his Andreth. She had claimed herself a member of House Bëor.

It was only in that moment that Aegnor had cursed himself for not being better acquainted with the race of men. He knew of course Boromir, and Boromir's son Bregor, but the rest of the family was a mystery to him. To ask his brothers about Andreth would be inviting suspicion; they knew not how to keep their opinions to themselves.

Perhaps he would encounter her once more at the Castle. Festivities were being planned for Boromir's coronation as Lord of Ladros. The men were throwing a great feast to honor their new Lord and to honor the Elven Princes. Aegnor and his brothers would be residing at Castle Bëor for a fortnight.

If they ever reached the castle.

Finrod and the rest of the men finally caught up to them. The crown prince chided his younger brothers on their impatience, "You will insult Boromir if you are not gracious in your thanks. He is doing us a great honor."

Angrod made a sound of complaint, Aegnor nodded his head. His gaze was turned towards the scenery below.

The hill overlooked the valley and in the distance, with his great vision, Aegnor could see the hazy outline of a palace. A fine mist was all that remained of the rain, the men were in better spirits. Their pace quickened. It was as if Aegnor was riding towards Andreth; in the palace was his lady.

Castle Bëor was a fortress of great magnitude built by Bëor the Old with assistance from Finrod. Lanterns glowed in the darkness, illuminating their pathway. In the courtyard stood a squadron of men waiting to receive their Lord and his noble guests. Boromir dismounted, clasping several soldiers on their back before presenting the Elven Princes. The men bowed and moved to take the Elves' horses. Several men offered to take the princes' cloaks, but they politely refused.

Aegnor surveyed the men assembled. Finrod had brought ten of his men, while nearly a dozen Elves had accompanied Aegnor and Angrod from the west. The rest of the group was composed of soldiers from Ladros. A handful of natives were dismissed to see their wives and children, while some of the Elven guard remained behind in the courtyard to deal with the princes' belongings.

Boromir lead the way into the castle. Despite the fact that he was soaked from head to toe, his manner was easy.

"Your rooms have been made ready in the south hall, while your men will stay in the west hall. I give you free use of my libraries and my kitchens, as well as my grounds. Your horses shall be housed in the stables. Follow me this way, my lords."

The three princes fell behind Boromir, the Elven guards falling in step behind them. Aegnor took note of the halls, the castle was finely built; Elven craftsmanship was apparent in the architecture. Guards passed along the corridor, bowing to their Lord. Several maids passed by carrying baskets of linens. Aegnor could not help but look at them, seeing if any of them were Andreth.

"Earlier today, my eldest daughter arrived from the south where she had been living with my kin, Belemir, and his wife, Adanel. My children are waiting in the grand hall for our arrival."

Angrod made ruefully laughed, nudging Aegnor in the ribs. Finrod shot them a withering look; thankfully, the Lord of Ladros paid them no notice.

At the end of the passageway, grand mahogany doors were thrown open. The procession entered a grand hall; the ceilings were vaulted and the floors were gilded silver. Emerald tapestries hung from the walls, and glass windows lined the upper galleries. Hundreds of candles blazed illuminating the room.

In the center of the hall stood a party composed of both men and women.

Boromir walked towards the crowd, the Elves remained at the hall's entrance. Aegnor saw the lord's son, Bregor, step forward to greet his father. Next to Bregor was a young girl who curtsied to her father. From his position, Aegnor could see that the girl was rather pretty.

Angrod whispered to him, "So the women have not the looks of Boromir."

He shot his brother a glare.

The Lord of Ladros had gone on to greet another woman. Her person was hidden behind the man's wide shoulders. This was the daughter returned from the south.

Aegnor heard the woman's voice. Its familiarity struck a chord within his heart.

"I was treated wonderfully by Belemir and the Lady Adanel, though I have longed to be returned to your presence, Father."

It was Andreth. Every fiber of his being knew that the voice was that of Andreth. It was the same voice that had spoken to him in the waters of the Tarn.

Aegnor cocked his head, attempting to see past Boromir. Not a beat later, the man moved to gesture to the princes.

"My children, may I present to you the Princes of Noldor."

The princes still wore their hoods. In unison they removed the gray cloaks from their heads, exposing their faces. Aegnor spotted Andreth standing beside the young girl, her eyes meeting his. A look of surprise was evident in her face; her mouth fell open, her eyes went wide. The prince saw Andreth grasp her sister's arm, the younger girl turning to her sibling in concern. It took a second before the woman composed herself. However, her eyes did not leave Aegnor's.

Despite his amazement, Aegnor could not help but marvel at the woman's beauty. In the candlelight, Andreth was even more stunning than when she had been draped in the glow of the moon.

Aegnor stepped forward to go to her, but realized that his eldest brother had already made his way over to the lady. Finrod walked over to Andreth. He addressed the young woman, bowing slightly. Andreth gave Aegnor a final glance, before turning to focus on the prince's brother.

Finrod spoke to Andreth, "My lady, your father told us that you have recently returned from the house of the Lady Adanel. Tell us is Adanel well?"

The young woman momentarily appeared dumbfounded at Finrod's easy manner. Aegnor observed her as she graciously responded, "Yes, my lord, the Lady Adanel is well. She is in the south living prosperously with her children and her stories."

Finrod nodded with a smile, "The Lady Adanel is known for her stories. I trust she told you some of them, I may ask you to recount them for my own pleasure."

Color flooded the woman's cheeks. She appeared pleased, "I only know a few my lord, but I am at your service."

Jealousy pooled in Aegnor's stomach. It was an irrational emotion, something he had experienced quite a bit having grown up with two older brothers. As the youngest son, Aegnor had been made to share many things with his brothers; their parents' affection, his title, his victories in battle. Nothing was ever solely his. He doubted that Finrod was as enraptured with Andreth as he was, but it still displeased him to see the woman smile at his brother.

Finrod nodded happily at Andreth's answer, leaving her to address Bregor. The group dispersed throughout the hall. The men moved to talk to the women of the household while the Elves walked about the room. Angrod spoke to a guard about some matters of importance. Finrod was in conversation with the Boromir and his son.

With the attention of his brother's elsewhere, the prince moved towards the young woman.

He approached her. The lady watched him intently. She was scrutinizing him, though there was a softness in her features signifying that she was not angry with him. Confusion knitted her brow. Aegnor could not help but enjoy the look.

The prince bowed and the ladies curtsied. Andreth spoke first, her voice cool, "My lord, I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance. I am Andreth of House Bëor, and you are?"

There was a playfulness in her tone, as if she was teasing him. Aegnor felt a smile come upon his lips. He answered her in an even voice, though his eyes held a twinkle of mischief, "My lady, I am Aegnor son of Finarfin and Prince of Dorthonion."

Andreth nodded her cheeks were aflame though the candlelight hid her blush well. The lady motioned to her sister, "This is Beril of House Bëor, my sister."

The girl to Andreth's left smiled. Though they were sisters, they were night and day. Beril was fair with pale eyes and light hair. Andreth's eyes were darker, her hair several shades deeper.

Beril was called to her brother's side, leaving Aegnor and Andreth alone. The two did not immediately speak, instead absorbing the presence of one another. It was an odd thing of fate to bring them together.

Aegnor closed their proximity so that only a foot of air was between them. Quietly, he spoke in a more somber manner, "I ask forgiveness my lady; I did not know you were Boromir's daughter."

The woman looked at him, Aegnor felt her eyes bore into his soul, "Then I beg forgiveness as well my lord, I did not know that I was addressing a Prince during out encounter."

A moment of silence passed between them before their attention was caught by Andreth's father, "I will show you, my lords, to your rooms. My men grow tired and no doubt there are many things to do in the morning that will need our full attention."

At this announcement, people began to disperse from the hall. Aegnor's brothers called to him, they were retiring to their rooms.

There was so much left unspoken between them. It weighed upon them, but all the prince could do was bow to the lady before him. Andreth lowered her gaze, a flash of disappointment crossing her face. With a quick curtsey, the lady moved to leave.

Without a thought, the Elf grabbed the woman's hand lightly, leaning forward to whisper into her ear, "We must talk in private. Tomorrow?"

Andreth looked at him, she was thinking. A moment longer and their closeness would draw attention.

"There is a garden in the south lawn that my sister spoke of. Tomorrow at noon."

The Elf's heart soared. He nodded before reluctantly letting the woman's hand go. As the prince returned to his brother's side, he watched out of the corner of his eye Andreth disappear with her sister, and several ladies, down a corridor.

Boromir led the congregation to the grand chambers in the south hall.

As soon as they were left alone, Finrod set about pillaging Boromir's library. Angrod and several of his men took up a game of cards.

Aegnor did not join his brother in the game but instead sat by a window contemplating the night sky. The Elves continued on like this for the entire night.

_If only he could sleep the time away until their meeting._

Sleep eluded the race of Elves. Aegnor would bear the hours until he could see his Andreth again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I am on Spring Break so in the next week I hope to upload some chapters.

Also, quick note: I use the word chapel to describe a room in the castle. This does not necessarily denote a place of devotion, chapels are often used to describe circular, window rooms found in castles. They are common in Gothic architecture. I always invoke the Palace of Poitiers whenever I think of Castle Bëor.

Thank-you so much for the chapter reviews! Love to everyone.

Julia

**Edit (3-4-14): ** I stupidly submitted my pre-edited chapter. **NotoriousNineteen** makes my stories readable. Enjoy!

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The rains had returned in the night. A constant, steady drizzle filled the basin of Ladros. Many of the farmers took the rain as a bad omen. Tall rows of corn remained untouched in the muddy fields. It was unusual to have rain during harvest time.

Women in the halls gossiped about the Lord of Ladros' guests. The Elven Princes and their guards gathered much attention; their foreign beauty causing many to stop and stare at them. Their odd mannerisms were subject of much talk.

Andreth was subjected to such prattle over breakfast with her sister.

Seated in Beril's room, Andreth listened with a half heart.

"They do not sleep. They only eat fruits, bread, and the occasional piece of meat. However, they drink quite a bit; only the finest of wines. Father has had to remove several of his cases from the cellar to appease them."

Andreth sipped her tea. Her mind's focus was on Aegnor. Last night, after their encounter in the grand hall, she had returned to her room in a flutter. Her heart had felt as though it would beat out of her chest.

Aegnor was an Elf; an Elven _Prince_, no less. He was not some mystic in the water. He was real and within reach.

From what little she did know of Elves, Andreth knew they were inherently different than Men. Men died of age, Elves remained for centuries. How old was this person she had become so enchanted with? She was nearing her twenty-sixth year. Was Aegnor nearing five hundred? The idea made her stomach flip.

Questions buzzed in her head, she needed to speak to Aegnor. The bliss of infatuation was becoming tainted with doubt.

"Andreth, are you listening?"

The woman snapped out of her meditation. Her sister gave her a look, frowning.

Andreth smiled nodding her head, casting the shadows from her mind and setting her cup down on its saucer. With an apologetic grin, the lady responded, "I am sorry Beril. I am still weary from my journey and from last night's excitement. Please, continue I promise I will listen more intently."

Beril was dressed in a pale gown of yellow, an embroidered shawl draped over her shoulders. Her hair had been left down, the curls spilling over into her face and back. In this form, she looked very young. For all of her confidence, Andreth realized, her sister was still only a babe. She liked gossip and pretty things, but there was a hesitance in Beril's voice whenever they talked about her childhood.

_It must have been difficult_, Andreth had mused, _to grow up around strangers._

When Andreth had been sent south, Beril had remained at Castle Bëor; from what Andreth had learned, Beril had a lonely childhood.

Ever since he had first held a sword, Bregor had been at their father's side. That had left Beril alone at the Castle during campaigns. Their father's solution had been to create a retinue of women for his youngest daughter.

Andreth had been introduced to her sister's ladies, women from Ladros; mainly wives of her father's men. They were all older than Beril. Some of them were around Andreth's age, others were even over thirty. Growing up, Andreth had Adanel to love her. She was even lucky enough to retain Onna who was like Adanel in every way.

Beril had these women who were kind, but they were not family. They cared for her, but they also saw her as a way to gain favor with their father. Andreth would not outright call them social climbers, but the thought had entered her mind several times.

It seemed Andreth was forgiven. Beril grasped her sister's hand, a grin from dimple to dimple, "No worries Andreth, I forget that this is all so overwhelming for you. It seems like we have been together for years not hours. I am just glad to have the company of a sister once more."

Andreth smiled and moved to hug her sister.

With all of the excitement surrounding Aegnor's appearance, the lady had almost forgotten that reconciling with her sister was of equal importance. For years Andreth had dreamed of being reunited with her family. Now she was finally with them, and her thoughts had strayed elsewhere.

Beril continued on, while Andreth finished her tea, this time her sister's talked of the feast, "It will be on the night of the new moon. It is symbolic as this will be a new age for our house. One of my ladies will be sent to take your measurements for a new gown. Father wishes us to have everything new to show off the splendor of House Bëor. At the feast, we will probably be led out by the Princes to begin the dancing. Imagine: dancing with an Elven Prince!"

A rueful smile tugged at Andreth's lips. If only Beril knew the truth.

The two women finished their meal in leisure.

Andreth departed her sister's chambers, leaving her sister to her needlework.

In the hallway, Andreth passed many people; several ladies carrying baskets of emerald cloth, men polishing the candleholders. They would nod to Andreth as she passed their eyes on the woman until she had left their sight. It was something Andreth would have to grow used to; living at her uncle's home, no one had paid her much heed. She was just another girl, not the daughter of a Lord.

Onna was waiting for Andreth in her chamber. The older woman was conversing with a maid; the two women laughing at something or other. They smiled when Andreth entered the room, the maid leaving to finish her washing and Onna helping Andreth out of her robe.

"I assume you enjoyed your breakfast my lady? I enjoyed a nice glass of tea myself, talking to the chamber maid about the Princes. They are the talk of the castle. Last night you were near exhaustion so I did not pester you about them, but I am so full of curiosity. Are they really as strange as they say?"

Andreth heard the eagerness in Onna's voice. It was only natural that the woman would be curious; Andreth gathered that Onna was educated more than most women in her position were. If she had been the one to tell Adanel the tales of the Tarn Aeluin, then she surely had told Adanel many other things.

Gladly, Andreth recounted whatever information she had retained from Beril's stories. They continued like this, Onna helping Andreth dress while Andreth talked of the Princes. She avoided bringing up Aegnor, instead telling her handmaiden of his brother Finrod. Onna teased her, saying she would fall in love with them. The young woman felt her stomach sink deeper.

Dressed in a plain gown of dove grey, Andreth moved towards the book case. There were several volumes on the history of House Bëor that had peaked her interest yesterday. The hand-bound covers were worn leather with gold etchings on the cover. She grabbed the first volume and tucked it into the crook of her arm.

"Onna, I am going to go explore a bit, perhaps find an alcove to read in. I shall return in a while, and then you will help me write my letter to Adanel, yes?"

The older woman nodded, wrapping a fur-lined shawl over Andreth's shoulders, "Of course, my lady. I shall be here. My bones still ache from our travels; I think a rest by the fire shall do me well."

Andreth left her handmaiden to nap, slipping out into the corridor.

Unfamiliar with most of the castle, Andreth wandered around Castle Bëor using what little directions Beril had given her.

Soon the lady found herself alone in an empty corridor; the light fixtures were dusty with only a few candles lighting the way. Andreth passed a series of windows extending from floor to ceiling. There was no light coming from the sky, only dark grey storm clouds spilling forth rain.

At the end of the hallway was a radiating chapel, which Andreth ducked into.

Windows lined the walls of the chapel; a few candles burned, the light reflecting off the glass. The chapel had a door that opened into a walled garden, the garden that Andreth assumed Beril had referred to. Andreth dared not to open the door, rain was coming down too hard to go outside. Rain pattered against the window panes; creating a soft cacophony of sound.

A stone bench with faded cushions made for a comfortable sitting area.

The lady lit several more candles in the chapel, before propping herself on the bench to begin her book. It was not yet noon, Aegnor would eventually join her.

On the first page of the volume was a forward written by a scholar in Bëor's court, it told of the bravery of House Bëor and the contents of the book. Andreth discovered that it was a sordid tale recounting the struggles of Men to hold off the darkness in the North. A distinctive recollection of an Orc raid on Castle Bëor made Andreth's skin crawl. The description of the creatures, with their dark leathery skin and mauled faces, were frightening. At the last moment, when all seemed lost, the Elves had swarmed in to rescue House Bëor from ruin.

The names of the Elves struck Andreth; _Finrod…Angrod…Aegnor._

This battle had taken place centuries ago. Here were the names of the Elves written in the tale; the same names of the Elven princes that dwelled within her father's castle.

_"My lady." _

Andreth jumped in her seat. She looked up to see Aegnor standing at the entrance of the chapel. He was dressed in trousers, his tunic was cream with brown thread embroidering the collar. A leather doublet had been left open to reveal a sword belt that sat at his waist. His golden hair was neatly braided in a long plait down his back.

The lady set her book down, its revealing tales forgotten momentarily. Standing, Andreth curtsied to Aegnor, her eyes bashfully directed towards the floor. They stood there in silence, alone, the two of them.

Aegnor was the first to break the silence, his voice pleasing, "I hope that you are well and enjoyed your rest. I only imagine the journey was strenuous from the south. Your father mentioned yesterday that you were residing with your kin?"

Andreth nodded while her mind raced for an eloquence of speech.

"Yes, my lord-"

"Aegnor. Please call me Aegnor. And I shall call you Andreth."

Andreth nodded in agreement; testing the name on her lips. It was so strange to say the word aloud when before it had only been present in her thoughts.

"Yes, _Aegnor_- I have lived these past fifteen years with my kin, Belemir, and his wife, Adanel. When my mother passed away my father had me sent south to join their household."

A look of confusion marred his face before it became bright once more. The Elf stepped forward, closer to her, "I suspect you miss your kin a great deal?"

Andreth felt a slight pang in her chest. One always had to give up something when gaining another. Though she lost the company of her kin in the south, she had recaptured the love of Beril, Bregor, and in some ways, her Father.

Fondly, she responded, "Yes, I am sad to be separated from them. Though, upon returning here, I have regained my siblings. It had been a decade since I had last seen my sister."

The Prince smiled; it was a slight upturn of the lips, his eyes sparkling. Andreth felt herself smile as well, any unhappiness she had previously felt dissipated. Silence once more filled the chapel. The questions that had been buzzing about in Andreth's head remerged.

"Aegnor, I wonder why you wished to meet with me. I have some notion but I wanted to be sure…" the woman's voice trailed away. She did not know what to expect from this prince, there were so many possibilities of what their relationship could become.

As if he read her thoughts, the Elf cleared his throat, "I know it must be confusing. Last night, when I saw you in the hall, it was if my dreams had come to fruition. Andreth, ever since our kiss I have not stopped thinking of you. You have been the object of my contemplations for the past hours. There is nothing else that I could possibly think of but you. I know I am foolish to think that my affections will be returned. Should I hope, or dare to imagine that you may feel the same way?"

Andreth did not know whether to grin or to cry. Aegnor's declaration was unexpected, but welcomed. The speech spoke volumes, touching the young lady deeply.

The Elf seemed to be watching her for any reaction. Andreth felt tears form in her eyes, affectionately she replied, "It is not foolish, dear Aegnor. You see my own thoughts have been consumed with none but you."

With their hearts thrown open to one another, the two beings embraced amidst the music of rain and the burn of candlelight.

It was Andreth this time that moved to kiss Aegnor. Her mind reeled as her lips met his. It was a soft kiss, chaste and inexperienced. The lady did not know what she was doing; all she knew was that she longed to reenact their first encounter in the Tarn.

His arms wrapped around her waist, squeezing Andreth to his chest. Andreth's head whirled as she allowed Aegnor to kiss her deeper. His hands roamed the expanse of her back, entwining in her hair. The shawl around her shoulders fell to the ground, forgotten. Her hands found their way to his face, fingers exploring the lines of Aegnor's cheekbones. Eventually, they brushed against the pointed ears so unlike her own.

Minutes later the two broke apart and rested upon the bench, hands entwined.

Andreth relaxed her head on Aegnor's shoulder, his shirt soft against her cheek. The Prince leaned over to pick up the book and shawl that had been discarded to the floor. Placing the shawl around his lady's shoulder, Aegnor flipped through the book's pages. Andreth watched as his brow furrowed, the book opened to one particularly gruesome page. He looked at her, his grey eyes clouded, "You enjoy such stories, Andreth?"

The woman shook her head, her lips pursing in worry, "No, this is actually my first time reading this story. Do you remember it? I-I mean I saw your name in the narration."

Aegnor nodded, a sigh escaping his chest, "Yes, unfortunately, I remember it well. It was a day like today, dark and rainy, when we finally broke through the Orc army. Bëor, your forefather, was at the front lines fighting amongst his men. He saved me from an Orc blade, suffering an injury of his own. It was morning before we conquered the Orcs and pushed them from the Castle. For nearly a month we chased the from the surrounding trees."

The Elf set the book down.

"These stories are dark, why do you enjoy them?"

Andreth paused before answering, weighing her words, "These tales may be full of sorrow and darkness, but from them there are lessons one can gain. The triumph of good when hope was within the jaws of evil, is that not a lesson worth learning?"

"Let us not talk of such things anymore."

Aegnor's tone was dismissive. Andreth wondered if she had said something wrong. Hugging his arm closer, the woman buried her head into Aegnor's shirt sleeve. She had not meant to ruin their moment together.

The Elf took her chin, directing her to look up at him, Andreth met his grey eyes. His face had relaxed and she grinned up at him.

"I must return to my brothers," he said. "They will wonder where I have ventured to."

"I hope I have not angered you in some way."

Aegnor shook his head, "You could never make me angry, Andreth. This book may seem like a faraway tale to you. To me, those events feel as if they were just yesterday, we Elves have no sense of time only that a century is like a blink of an eye."

"I have so many questions for you."

"And I will answer all of your questions later, for now I must go," Aegnor disentangled himself from Andreth's grip. He rose from the stone bench, Andreth standing as well. Aegnor handed the book back to Andreth. The Elven Prince took her hand, his lips grazing the back of her palm before Aegnor pulled her once more into an embrace. He placed a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Until the next time I see you fair Andreth."

Aegnor let her go, leaving her alone in the chapel. The lady gathered herself for a moment; adjusting her shawl before strolling back down the hall.

As she wandered her way back to her rooms, Andreth carelessly ran her fingers along the wall. The feeling of Aegnor's hands on her waist still remained.

Rain had ceased, though the grey clouds remained looming in the sky. Andreth could care less if the world was to end, she held Aegnor's affection. For the remaining time of his stay, Andreth would learn more about this Prince and discover everything about him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Production of my Honors Thesis has begun and, therefore, consumes part of my life. I am so grateful for all of the reviews, thank-you so much! This chapter is the start of some conflict, for those of you who were beginning to ask for some. The re-emergence of the Lord of Ladros himself!

Read & Review

-Julia

* * *

The days settled into a steady routine. Andreth would wake in the mornings and have breakfast with Beril. Bregor would join them for a while before going off with their Father. The weather had cleared to sunshine, the cold winds being the only sign of the winter to come. Their father spent much of his day entertaining the Elves, riding with them throughout the basin or practicing sword play.

Andreth soon read through the volumes of history on her shelves and moved to the other works. She would read for most of the day or take a walk with Onna or Beril around the grounds. In the evenings she would dine in her Father's study.

Aegnor and Angrod were present at a few of the evening meals. With the arrival of good weather, the younger Elven Princes were too preoccupied with the outdoors to stay within the walls of Castle Bëor.

However, Finrod rarely missed a meal. Andreth had been allowed to watch the Crown Prince across from her; see how unlike his brother he was. Finrod talked freely to all at the table, entertaining all forms of conversation; even Beril's gossip. Aegnor usually sat quietly at the table; glancing at Andreth or conversing with Angrod.

With their attentions diverted, the two lovers found scarce time to be alone. The few moments the pair could manage to be with one another were early in the mornings or late in the afternoons when they could steal away from the crowds to what had become 'their chapel'. For hours, the lovers talked of everything. Andreth opened all of her secrets to the Elf. She spoke of her childhood and of growing up in the south; playing with her cousins and listening to her aunt's stories.

Aegnor reciprocated by telling Andreth recollections of his childhood. He had not been born in this world but ventured here at what was considered the beginning of time. Andreth had finally wrapped her mind around the fact that Aegnor was centuries old and had seen things she had only heard of in fairytales. It was fascinating.

They did not speak of the future, but instead focused on their present time together.

There was still some hesitance to the reality of their relationship. Was it even plausible for a woman and an elf to be joined in union? The upcoming banquet and all of the preparations surrounding the festivities kept Andreth from reflecting to deeply on the subject. Sometimes she would find herself lying awake at night thinking about it, but during the day there were too many other things to occupy her time with.

The morning before the banquet, Andreth found herself amongst the chaos of a dress fitting.

Andreth stood rigid on a dais constructed in her room while Beril's ladies fussed about her. One woman tightened the laces of the gown Andreth would wear for the feast, while the other woman fastened a swatch of fabric to the left sleeve. It was a splendid creation of rose damask fabric; the round neckline was cut modestly but exposed the wide expanse of her collarbone and shoulders. Hanging sleeves and gold embroidery along the bust added to the overall look. In this gown, Andreth felt regal.

Onna preened in front of her, Beril joining Andreth's handmaiden in her praise.

"You are such a spectacle to behold! No man shall leave with his heart tomorrow, think of the success you shall be dear sister."

Beril's comments were effusive and Andreth felt herself redden amongst the praise. She waved her hands dismissively, trying to remain as still as possible. A needle had already prodded her in the ankle when she had dared to move during the hemming.

"My lady, if only Adanel were here to see you! What a thing of wonderment you are, there shall be praise for both your beauty and your character."

Andreth shook her head and felt the quick sting of a needle lodging itself in her arm. Beril's lady who was sewing lace to her sleeve turned pale, apologizing. The lady waved off the injury and credited it to her own foolishness, before turning on the women before her, "You two must stop talking of me in such a manner, I fear my head shall become so big with compliments I will not be able to walk through the door-"

"–And that's because it's pretty big to begin with."

Bregor interrupted Andreth by walking through the doorway. Her brother entered the rooms dressed in a riding costume of leather breeches and vest, a bow and arrow strapped to his back. The ladies scattered about as the heir apparent came towards his sister. Andreth leaned forward to kiss her brother from the dais, a thankful grin on her face. Beril and Onna received greetings as well before Bregor turned to gaze at Andreth whistling, "Sister, I must admit you are quite pretty, the spitting image of our mother I swear."

Andreth rolled her eyes, "Stop, not you too! Let us change the subject: you go hunting Bregor? Will the Princes join you?"

Beril harrumphed and sat down in one of the chairs, a needlepoint hoop in her hands. The younger woman took to her sewing, decidedly ignoring her siblings, while Onna fixed tea.

Bregor answered Andreth's question, "Yes, the weather is fine and the foul are in perfect season. We shall bring them back for the feast as a gift to Father. Prince Aegnor and Angrod accompany me, as well as Gorth and his nephew who has newly arrived for the banquet."

"I did not know Gorth had a nephew, I only knew he served our Uncle. Who is this nephew?"

Beril's attention was diverted at the sound of gossip.

Her brother took a proffered tea cup from Onna before responding. He spoke, "His name is Gervos, an agreeable man, a few years older than myself. He is one of Father's chieftains and holds some of our lands in the West. Gervos is a good shot, and has an excellent gelding that I have been trying to buy off him for several years."

Beril agreed, "Yes, Andreth he is quite handsome. When I was younger he picked a bushel of daisies for me as a gift for my birthday."

At this sentiment, Andreth laughed. Beril seemed to favor anyone who was well-spoken and flirted with her. Andreth did not know of this Gervos, but then again she had not spent much time around Gorth or his family. If Bregor thought him a good man, then he probably was. There were so many names and faces over the past couple of days that had been flooding into Ladros for the festivities, the lady could not possibly keep track of them.

Onna piped in on the conversation, handing Andreth a cup, "Yes, I remember Gorth bringing him once to meet your Uncle. You were in bed with fever that night, my lady. Tinley is gracious. You shall have excellent company for you hunt today, my lord."

The women entertained Bregor for a time with more tea and gossip before he excused himself. He bid his sisters a farewell.

For a moment Bregor paused by the door. The man seemed to be pondering something. He snapped his fingers, remembering the almost forgotten errand he had been sent on. Turning to address Andreth, Bregor exclaimed, "Ah, yes, I almost forgot! I was sent by Father to fetch you. He wishes to meet with you in his study as soon as your dress fitting is over."

Their Father had been very busy with preparations for the feast; Andreth had only seen him during dinners where their conversation was polite, but limited.

An unsettling feeling sat in Andreth's stomach. She was weary of being alone with her father. Even though he was her Father, he was almost entirely a stranger. The upcoming days were very important for him; the festival was an opportunity for their Father to cement his allegiances with the Elves. Andreth knew the politics well; she had studied them since she had been told she was leaving her Uncle's residence. Adanel had advised her to act in any manner her Father needed; to_ help_ and not _hinder_ her Father's agenda.

Andreth took Adanel's advice very seriously.

Quietly, Andreth inquired, "Do you know why he wishes to speak with me?"

Bregor shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. He gave her one last smile before departing from the loom, allowing the dress fitting to resume.

It took only an hour more before Andreth was back in her normal clothes. Beril and her ladies had left them, not before her younger sister had given her a word of warning about their Father.

"You must make sure to keep him happy, sister; when he gets into a temper he can be quite ruthless. Our Father is a good man; he just has many responsibilities on his shoulders. I also would be devastated if you were to leave again."

Her sister had worn a pained expression on her face, as if the thought of Andreth's departure was too terrible to even consider. Wearing a mask of cheerfulness, Andreth had appeased her sister's worry by promising to behave herself in front of their Father. Beril had left in good spirits with her ladies, leaving Onna and Andreth alone.

Onna tidied the room while Andreth adjusted herself before a looking glass. The older woman appeared behind her giving Andreth a warm hug and whispering into her ear, "Your Father probably just wishes to speak with you alone. It will be fine child; there is nothing to worry about!"

Andreth was thankful for Onna's support. Returning the older woman's hug, the lady left her handmaiden to a nap.

Anxiety tied her stomach in knots as the young woman strolled down the hall. Andreth made her way to her Father's study, passing several men in armor on their way out of the room. The room was empty except for her Father's secretary, an elderly squire carrying several scrolls in his arms. Andreth could not remember his name, but she knew that he was a sweet man. He bowed to her, dismissing the remaining guards from the room.

"Greetings my lady, the Lord of Ladros will be back momentarily. Please make free of the chairs. Shall I get you some refreshment?"

She replied, "No thank-you, sir. I am quite content."

The man bowed once more before leaving her alone.

Andreth wrung her hands several times, a habit she developed as a child to deal with unease. To distract herself, the lady walked around the room. She had only ever been in here for dinners, though the table and chairs had been cleared away leaving only two arm chairs before her Father's expansive desk. Books were piled on shelves; scrolls containing important notices stuck in between the pages. Andreth glanced over several of the unnamed volumes. She continued her inspection of the room, coming to stand in front of a miniature tucked away on a book shelf.

She had not noticed the portrait before.

On a piece of round porcelain someone had taken the likeness of a woman. The woman's face was round and her eyes were a vibrant blue. In the miniature, this noble lady wore her hair loosely, a circlet of gold entwined amongst her dark curls. Dressed in a gown of emerald with a shawl of crimson over her shoulder, the woman appeared attractive and vibrant.

Andreth was looking at an image of her mother.

Andreth's hand instinctively grazed over the surface of the image, as if brushing her own Mother's face. The porcelain was cold and smooth, she imagined her mother to feel much warmer than this. Many times as a child Andreth had imagined her Mother giving her hugs, feeling the sincerity of her love in her embrace. She had never before seen an image of her Mother, she wondered if Bregor or Beril even knew this portrait was in here.

It was in such an unnoticeable part of the room, was this on purpose?

Her observations were cut short as the Lord of Ladros came into the room.

Her Father spoke to her, noticing the porcelain his daughter was fixated on, "Ah, I see you have found your Mother's image. There was another likeness of her, but it was lost after her death. She was about your age when I had that commissioned."

The corner of her Father's mouth turned upward slightly, momentarily breaking the serious frown he wore.

Andreth did not know how to respond so instead she gave a half-bow to her Father, coming to stand in front of him. The Lord of Ladros was dressed in black breeches, a matching shirt, a gray vest, a fur-lined cloak, and a garnet pendant fixed at his neck. It was a somber outfit, reminding her of funeral attire. Unlike her Uncle, who dressed quite colorfully, her father favored these dark colors.

The Lord of Ladros gave his daughter a once over. The young woman stood still with her eyes downcast.

Her heart nearly stopped in anticipation. A soft look clouded his grave eyes, almost as if her Father was remembering a happy moment. She received a word of praise, "I have come to observe that you look very much like your Mother. You may sit."

Andreth murmured a thank-you. Her Father went around his desk and sat down in his chair, motioning for Andreth to be seated as well.

"No doubt you wonder why I asked you here Andreth. We have not had a chance to speak since your return, I apologize but I have many things to concern myself with."

Andreth nodded, a smile forcing it's way to her face.

Her Father continued, his voice even, "I have spoken to Bregor who has told me that you are well. I doubt my kin and his wife treated you poorly during your stay. Belemir always favored children and Adanel is a prudent woman. They have made you into a proper lady, which was why I wished to speak to you."

The motives behind this meeting were about to be revealed. Andreth readied herself, schooling her face into a look of passivity. She could not imagine what her Father could possibly say.

"You see Andreth; I was too involved in expanding the lands of House Bëor to raise you. I did what I could by you, therefore I sent you away to live with your Aunt and Uncle."

Andreth had figured as much. Her Father had been busy, she had found great happiness in her kin's household. In the back of her mind, she wondered why Beril had not been sent along with her.

The Lord of Ladros continued on and Andreth did not dare to interrupt him, "I have been able to provide this House with lands and titles that honor the name Bëor. A name you will carry with you even after you are _married_."

A sinking feeling developed in her stomach. Marriage was not a word that sounded encouraging coming from the Lord's lips. Did he know of her relationship with Aegnor? She had not spoken a word to anyone, but perhaps Aegnor said something of their romance to his brothers. Was this why her Father had wished to meet with her, to discuss the tryst that had formed between his daughter and an Elf?

Her fingers tapped the arm of the chair; Andreth forced herself to remain calm. The man sitting across from her did not appear to take notice of her demeanor.

"The subject of your marriage has been brought up several times, you are young but you must be married soon."

Andreth's breath left her throat. The world about her became cold.

"This is one of the reasons why I wished for you to return. There is one man in particular that I have arranged for you to meet. His name is Gervos; he is the nephew to Gorth. For nearly eight years now he has held lands in the West on my behalf. I have arranged for him to escort you out at the festival. Does that please you?"

To say she was at a loss for words would be an understatement. Thoughts were not forming coherently in the young woman's brain. Her mind was blank. Her Father wished for her to marry. That was the reasoning why she had been brought back to her home; to be sent away, yet again.

The room seemed to spin for a bit, Andreth grasped the chair's arms tighter to the point where her knuckles were white. She attempted to be reasonable, but any rationality had left her. Plainly, she remarked, "I cannot say that I am pleased at the thought of being married to a stranger, sir. You cannot expect me to do this!"

It came out as a demand and that was when Andreth knew that she had crossed the line. For a moment she had cared about propriety, but that moment was gone and the woman's defenses flared. Andreth would scream and fight before she was taken from the castle, taken from her siblings.

The Lord of Ladros shot her a stern look, a look warning her not to test his patience. He waved his hand indifferently, "I am not demanding you to marry Gervos tomorrow, child. I only ask that you give him leave to court you. I know you shall grow to like him."

"You cannot _expect_ this of me!"

The outburst was regretted as soon as it slipped her lips. Andreth watched as her Father grew exasperated. His hand balled into a fist and hit the table with a thud. The woman jumped in her seat at the sound and fell silent. Beril's warning played in the back of her mind. She felt guilty for her outburst. There were greater consequences to think of; Beril and Bregor needed her. Andreth needed to be sensible.

"You will be _expected_ to entertain Gervos tomorrow at the feast. If I do not see you attempt to be courteous, then I will know that my daughter is ungrateful. You are dismissed."

Her Father was indignant, their conversation was over.

His fist was still balled up and Andreth weighed her options. She could respond and further incur the man's anger, or she could remain silent and do as she was told. Choosing the latter option, the woman stood and bowed to her Father, murmuring a "thank-you, sir". Andreth crossed the threshold of the room and left.

When the young woman was outside in the corridor, she allowed herself to cry. Several tears ran down Andreth's face.

Frustration, anger and fear welled in her belly.

The woman was able to avoid the eyes of most people as she walked along the passageways. Her hands wiped away the tears from her face until her cheeks were red. In a burst of anger, she hit the stone wall in frustration and sobbed. She wanted Aegnor, she wanted her love to hold her and say it was all right. This had been her Father's plan all along and it tore at Andreth's heart.

Leaning against the wall, Andreth pressed her forehead against the cool stone. She closed her eyes, collecting her bearings.

A voice, soft and earnest, soothingly addressed her, "My lady, are you quite alright?"

Andreth turned her face to see Prince Finrod standing beside her.


End file.
